


A Kinney Christmas Carol

by Julesmonster



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Drama & Romance, Holidays, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2789327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julesmonster/pseuds/Julesmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Dickens' A Christmas Carol, QaF style, with Brian Kinney as Scrooge... Just a bit of Christmas fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Ghostly Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Chapter One: A Ghostly Visit**

_“Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.”_

No, wait, that’s a different tale than the one I wish to impart to you, dear readers. That tale has been told a million times over in more ways than I can conceive. No the tale I want to tell is not about the dead Jacob Marley or his living counterpart Ebenezer Scrooge. There is no Tiny Tim (with crutch or ukulele) nor is there a fat Christmas goose to be shared in the concluding scenes.

Instead, there is Brian Kinney, the stud of Liberty Avenue. Much like Scrooge in Dickens’ tale, Brian was a miserable bastard, especially around the holidays. He was alone by both circumstance and choice and he told himself that he preferred it that way. But I am getting ahead of myself. Where was I? Oh yes…

Jack Kinney was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Brian Kinney signed it. And Brian's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Jack was as dead as a door-nail. (Hey, if I’m going to steal from Dickens, I may as well steal right and proper!)

Brian knew he was dead. How could he not? Jack was his father and Jack had taught Brian all of his miserable ways. Jack preached about how relationships and family ripped the soul out of a man and Brian learned those lessons well. It became inevitable, enforced with a fist and harsh words upon a young and impressionable mind, that Brian would become exactly like his father. Brian liked to believe that because he fucked men rather than women, because he avoided the trap of marriage, because he allowed a chosen few to grace his life with the moniker of friend that he wasn't anything like his father. In truth, the sex of the partner was irrelevant; just like Jack, Brian used others for physical release and then tossed them aside. Just like Jack, Brian refused to be a part of a healthy loving relationship. Just like Jack, Brian held his friends and family at a distance and let no one inside of the walls around his heart.

Even after Jack died, Brian continued to live his life in such a way that would have made his bastard of a father proud. Cold-hearted bastard was a title that Brian relished as much as the title of stud. Unlike Jack Kinney, however, Brian had made something of himself. He had worked his way through school and then had worked his way to the top of his chosen field. He owned one of the best advertising agencies in the country because he had worked his ass off to make it the best.

As hard as he worked, however, Brian played just as hard. He drank, drugged and fucked his way through the lonely nights so that he could avoid admitting just how lonely those nights were. He had fucked half of the gay men in Pittsburgh at one time or another. Never the same man twice and never allowing an emotional attachment to form. There was only one exception to that rule… but again, I am getting ahead of myself.

Brian was ruthless in his business and ruthless in his personal life and he was just fine with that. He had more money than he knew what to do with and was never wanting for a trick. He was the ultimate gay man, as far as he was concerned.

Of course, the Christmas season was one time of year when Brian was forced to face his solitary state head on. With all the media hype about families and friends, all of the ads he himself put together to reinforce the propaganda in order to sell more shit that no one could actually need, Brian was unable to escape the fact that he was alone. It was for that reason that Brian Kinney hated Christmas. It was also for that reason he made a point of going somewhere—anywhere—else for the actual holiday. Each year, once the last minute changes had been done for his various campaigns, Brian boarded a flight for somewhere warm and refused to return until all the ‘holiday shit’ was over.

Brain wasn't a particularly greedy man. He was happy to give to the charities that he felt were worthy as long as they were willing to keep his name out of it. He was especially fond of supporting gay rights. But no one would ever know that he supported these causes because Brian was so adamant that they not know. No one would ever know that he slipped a hundred dollar bill into the kettle any time he saw a Salvation Army bell ringer. No one would know that he quietly paid for the new roof at the Vic Grassi Hospice. No one would ever know that he was the driving force behind the new daycare center at the GLC. No one would ever know that behind the walls Brian had erected around his heart, there still beat the heart of a child full of hope and love.

It was that child’s heart that reached out past the stony barriers when his son Gus was born and latched on never to let go. When Brian refused to sign over custody of his son, everyone said it was because he was a heartless bastard, but in truth it was because he could not. He could not give up that one tie to the boy who had claimed his heart. So while Melanie ranted and raved and called Brian every kind of bastard she could think of, Brian had simply ignored her and clung to his son.

Gus was the only person Brian would ever allow to see him vulnerable. He was the only person who could make Brian show true and genuine emotion. And yet even Gus, now five years old, could not make Brian stick around for Christmas.

“Please, Daddy,” Gus pouted. “You’re never here for Christmas. I want you there when I open my presents from Santa.”

“Sorry, Sonny Boy,” Brian said gently. “But this is something I have to do. You and your mommies will have a great Chanukah and Christmas without me just like you always do.”

“But I’m going to miss you,” Gus said. “And the mommies have JR now so they don’t really pay attention to me anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Brian said. “They love you just as much as ever. And so do I. I’ll be home in a couple weeks and then you and I can spend a whole day together. No girls allowed.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Gus said, but his tone was subdued for the rest of his visit.

The days leading up to Christmas were just as hectic as ever for Brian on this particular year. In fact, it seemed like they were even worse. Almost every one of their clients had some last minute emergency that needed his attention, so instead of flying out of Pittsburgh on December 21st, Brian was still at his desk on Christmas Eve, working his staff into the ground.

“Brian, everyone is exhausted,” Cynthia complained. “It’s after five and, unlike us, they all have families to go home to.”

“Cynthia, we have four commercials that are scheduled to be in the Super Bowl this year. With all the shit that happened this Christmas, we are almost a week behind schedule,” Brian said. “I’ll be gone for two weeks—well, a week and a half now—and much of the staff will be taking vacation time as well. I think they can afford to work a few extra hours today.”

“They've all been working extra hours for the past two weeks,” Cynthia said. “For fuck’s sake, Brian. It’s Christmas.”

Brian leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Fine, let them go. Just make sure they understand that they’ll be working their asses off on Monday morning. I may be in Maui, but there’s a perfectly good internet access at my hotel.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes. Only Brian would work while on vacation in Hawaii. “Sure thing, Brian.”

Brian grumbled to himself as Cynthia left his office and he went back to work. There were still a million things to do and none of them had anything to do with some overblown holiday propaganda. When Cynthia returned at seven, he was still buried in his work.

“It’s seven and I’m going home,” Cynthia told him.

“Seven?” Brian looked at his clock and swore. “I’m going to miss my flight.”

“I wouldn't worry about that,” Cynthia shrugged. “Have you looked outside lately? It’s snowing like a bitch out there and it’s supposed to continue for the next twelve hours. All flights have been cancelled for today and most of tomorrow. Looks like you’ll be home for Christmas for once.”

“Shit,” Brian sighed. He quickly checked online and sure enough, the airport had closed. There was already four inches of snow on the ground and the forecast called for up to 18 inches before this thing was done. Brian spent a few minutes on the phone with the airline before giving up getting a flight out before two days after Christmas. He was well and truly stuck. Sighing, Brian cancelled his ticket and called the hotel to cancel his room as well. If he was stuck, he might as well stick around and work on the Super Bowl ads.

Shaking his head in defeat, Brian cleared his desk, taking as much work home with him as he could fit into his attache case. It took fifteen minutes for the taxi to arrive, but Brian had no choice but to wait since he had left his car at the loft in anticipation of going directly from work to the airport. The trip to the loft took twice the normal time and Brian tipped the driver generously despite the man’s annoying habit of chattering and playing those awful Christmas carols on the radio.

“You made it just in time,” the cabbie said before Brian could climb from the car. “Dispatch just said that the city’s been shut down. Only emergency vehicles allowed out tonight. Guess I’ll get to spend Christmas Eve with the kids after all.”

“Right,” Brian said tersely. “Good for you.”

The cab drove off and Brian carefully made his way from the cab to the front door of the Building on Tremont that he had called home for more than ten years now. He had bought the loft in his first year at Ryder, using the bonus from his first big campaign as the down payment. Since then, he had bought up and paid off the other condos one by one until he owned the entire building outright. He still rented out the apartments on the lower levels, but he felt more secure knowing that he had the security of having a home that could never be taken from him.

The light by the door flickered a couple times before finally settling on a faint eerie glow that barely gave any light at all. Brian made a mental note to have the super take a look at it after the holidays. It was too bad people felt the need to make such a big deal out of a single day. It wasn't like the world stopped just because the holiday gods declared this one day special. Work still needed to be done.

The door, so familiar to Brian that he hardly ever looked at it any longer, was made of frosted glass with a Celtic knot in clear glass in the center of it. Brian had the design custom made when he had finally paid off the last of the apartments. It was a design that his Grandmother had shown him when he was a child. She had been a quilter and had stitched the design into the quilt that had graced the bed Brian had used the one summer he was allowed to spend with her. She had told him it was a love knot and that there was no beginning and no end, just like the love she felt for him. It was one of the few happy memories he had from his childhood.

In the dim light, however, Brian looked at that Celtic knot and didn't see the knot but the face of his long dead father. Brian paused to stare at the likeness but in the time between one blink and the next, the face of Jack Kinney had disappeared and been replaced again with the familiar Celtic knot.

It was with a shaking hand that Brian unlocked the door and let himself inside. He refused to believe what his eyes had seen. Further, he refused to put his still shaking hands down to that moment of disturbing illusion. Instead, Brian chalked it up to having been too many hours since he had grabbed a quick bran muffin for breakfast. Low blood sugar could do some pretty strange things to a person.

He took the elevator rather than the stairs up to his fifth floor loft and let himself inside. He ignored the uneasy feeling inside that told him that something was different tonight than every other night he found refuge in those walls. He went up the three steps to his bedroom and quickly shed his clothes, carefully hanging his suit up and discarding everything else to the laundry hamper in the bathroom before stepping into the shower.

Half an hour later, dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, Brian went into the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat. He knew that the refrigerator was basically empty of everything but beer and condiments, but he found a few cans of soup and grabbed one randomly. It only took a couple of minutes for his dinner to heat in the microwave and soon he was seated on his expensive Italian leather sofa flipping through the channels on his television attempting to find something that wasn't holiday related.

The phone rang just as he settled on an old rerun of one of those police procedurals that seem to plague the cable stations. “Yeah.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, asshole.”

Brian sighed. It was Debbie, his friend Mikey’s mother. “What’s up Deb?”

“Since I know you can’t fly out to whatever gay resort you had planned for this year, I thought I’d invite you over for Christmas dinner tomorrow evening,” Debbie said. “Michael, Ben and Hunter will be here all day and Lindsay and Mel will be bringing Gus and JR over in the afternoon.”

“Sounds scintillating, but I think I’ll pass,” Brian drawled.

“Listen you asshole,” Debbie said sternly. “Your little boy wants to see you for Christmas. And so does the rest of your family. Get off your ass and get here for dinner. We’ll eat at six.”

Brian didn't have time to tell her it would be a cold day in hell before he showed up for a family Christmas because she hung up on him. Brian sighed and went back to his now lukewarm soup and room temperature beer.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” Brian muttered. He had no intention of going anywhere tomorrow. He’d sleep late, something he rarely had the opportunity to do, and then do some work. Maybe he’d stop by the munchers’ place the next day to see Gus, but Gus was going to have to get used to the fact that Christmas was just another day.

Brian shut the television off at 11:30 and washed up his bowl before heading to bed. It was early for him, but he felt inexplicably drained. He stripped off his clothes and climbed between the sheets. Soon, only the light from the street through the front windows illuminated the room. Brian spent a few moments contemplating the fat wet snowflakes as they fell to earth.

It was as the bells from the church two blocks away began to ring, announcing the start of Christmas, that Brian heard another sound. This sound was much closer. In fact, it was coming from his kitchen. Very carefully, Brian grabbed a heavy marble book end from the shelf near his bed and crept towards the sound.

There was a man standing by the refrigerator, rooting around inside. But as Brian stood there watching the man, he could see the empty refrigerator through him.

“What the fuck?” Brian snarled.

The apparition turned and gave him a smile. “Hey Sonny Boy!”

“Pops?” Brian muttered in disbelief. “What the fuck? You’re dead.”

“Got that right,” Jack said gloomily. “Can’t go back and fix things now. It’s too late for me, but it isn't too late for you. That’s why I’m here.”

“Too late for what?” Brian wondered. “What the fuck am I doing? This has to be a hallucination. I must have drunk too much.”

Jack looked into the fridge again. “Nope. Just one beer missing from this six-pack, and one bottle in the recycling bin. You should really get some food in here.”

“I usually order in,” Brian muttered as he went back to his room to grab his jeans and t-shirt. When he walked back down the steps, Jack had left the kitchen and was sitting in front of Brian’s television.

“I still like the set up you have here, Sonny Boy,” Jack said. “Nothing like that piece of shit house I had when I was alive and living with the warden.”

“Funny what a college education can buy you,” Brian said. He sat in the chair across from his father and turned on the reading lamp. “What the fuck are you doing here? If you were going to haunt me, I’d have thought you would have done it before now. It’s been four years since you died.”

“Couldn't get back before now,” Jack shrugged. “The-Powers-That-Be kept me busy showing me where I went wrong.”

“The-Powers-That-Be?” Brian asked. “Don’t tell me that Mom was right and we’re all going to hell.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Jack said. “Boy, are all the religious nuts surprised when they get there. There’s no great and terrifying God. No heaven or hell. It’s more like karma and past lives and stuff. When you die, you go to this plane where the cosmic forces show you where you fucked up in the hopes that you’ll do better on your next go ‘round. The worse you fucked up, the longer you have to stay. I've been here longer than most, and I know I've still got a while left before they let me be reborn.”

“What’s it like there?” Brian asked.

“Lonely,” Jack said softly. “More lonely than you would ever believe. I can see other spirits, but we can’t touch or communicate. And they keep replaying all the shit I messed up and showing me the way I fucked up other people. I hurt you the most, though your mother and sister were close in the running. That’s why I’m here. I need to try and get you fixed so you don’t end up like me, and so your son doesn't end up like both of us.”

“Gus? What’s Gus got to do with anything?” Brian all but growled.

“They don’t tell me everything; I just know that if you keep on the path you’re on now, you’ll end up just like me and Gus will end up just like you,” Jack said. “The-Powers-That-Be don’t want that to happen, so they arranged this little intervention. I think they have plans for Gus.”

“This is all bullshit,” Brian muttered. “You aren't really here.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jack said. “But you’ll change your tune when the spirits come to visit.”

“What spirits?” Brian asked and then it dawned on him. “No. Please tell me that my life hasn't turned into a fucking Dickens Christmas special.”

“Sorry,” Jack said with a chuckle. “They have a strange sense of humor. You know the routine. Three Christmas spirits, past, present and future, will visit you tonight. Listen and learn, Sonny Boy. You come from a long line of Kinney men who can’t figure out how to love. You’re the only one who can break the cycle.”

“Whatever,” Brian said with a roll of his eyes.

“My time is almost up,” Jack said sadly. “Before I go, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for what I did to you. I know sorry doesn't change things, but… Well, I do love you and I’m proud of the things you have accomplished. I’ll be even prouder if you can break the cycle that my great grandfather seems to have started. You’re a strong man Brian and if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Jack seemed to fade into nothingness before Brian’s eyes. He didn't even have a chance to respond to his father and he was gone.


	2. Christmas Past

**Chapter Two: Christmas Past**

Brian was still sitting in the armchair contemplating everything when he fell asleep. He awoke, however, back in his bed, fully clothed and with a soft glowing light illuminating the room. When he was able to focus through his sleep tired eyes, Brian realized that it wasn't the room that was glowing but the small child who was standing beside his bed.

“I guess you’re the first spirit?” Brian asked. He felt silly talking to this glowing child who looked even younger than Gus.

“I am,” the spirit said. “Come.”

The spirit held out his hand and Brian reluctantly took it as he stood to his feet. Before he was even fully standing, they had moved through time and space and Brian recognized his childhood home.

“Shit, you had to bring me here, didn't you?” Brian muttered. “You know there were no happy memories here. If your goal is to make me see how great Christmas is, this isn't the way to do it.”

“Watch and listen,” the young spirit commanded. Brian found himself obeying in spite of himself.

There was a little boy sitting in front of the Christmas tree and staring with awe at the twinkling colored lights. Brian knew right away that it was himself at about three years old. Now he would consider the decorations tacky and garish, but then… they had seemed almost magical somehow. Brian vaguely remembered this Christmas. It was the first one he could remember at all. He had gotten a hand-knitted scarf from his grandmother that he had worn until it was too old and ratty to be called anything but a rag. But that Christmas it had been new.

“What are you looking at squirt?”

Brian almost missed Claire coming into the room. She had to be about seven years old and she sat on the floor beside the younger Brian. She looked happier and more carefree than Brian could ever remember her being.

“The lights,” young Brian said in his childish voice that reminded Brian so much of Gus a couple years ago. “Are they magic?”

“No, silly,” Claire said. “They’re just like any other lights. They turn on when you plug them in.”

“Oh,” young Brian said in a slightly disappointed tone.

“Just because _they_ aren't magic doesn't mean that magic doesn't exist,” Claire continued. “Christmas is all about magic.”

“Santa’s magic,” young Brian said knowingly.

“Yes, he is,” Claire agreed. “But that’s not the most magical part about Christmas.”

“Really?” both young and old Brian said this together.

“Really,” Claire said. “The most magical part about Christmas is how it makes people be nicer to each other for just a little while.”

“Like Mom and Dad?” Brian asked. Even at three, he knew that his parents didn't exactly like each other.

“Sure,” Claire said. Brian could see a troubled look in her eyes that at three he had never noticed. “Like Mom and Dad. But also other people. Like when Mrs. Smyth brought us cookies for no reason, or when Mr. Jacobs helped that guy with the flat tire.”

“Cool,” Brian said.

“Just remember, Christmas isn't really about the lights or presents, Bri, no matter how pretty they are,” Claire said in all of her seven year old wisdom. “It’s about love and kindness.”

“I love you Claire,” young Brian said.

“I love you too squirt,” Claire said.

The scene seemed to fade a little and Brian turned to the ghost. “That was… I didn't remember her ever being that nice to me. But you should know that just because we had a nice moment once thirty years ago doesn't negate all the bad shit that happened before and after.”

The spirit nodded and Brian noticed that the child looked a little older now than he had at the beginning of their jaunt. The scene before them came back into focus and Brian saw Jack and Joanie had now taken over the living room. He was sitting at the top of the stairs, trying to see what was going on. He remembered trying to wait up for Santa Claus, but he didn't remember the fight that was currently taking place. It was just one of a thousand that happened over the years.

“You were out with that harlot again,” Joanie hissed, the accusation clear in her tone.

“What the fuck do you care,” Jack slurred belligerently. “It’s not like you’ll put out.”

“I’ll not take the chance of having another child with a drunken lout like you,” Joanie said. “Two was more than enough.”

“If you’d use goddamn birth control it wouldn't be an issue,” Jack told her. “Fuck, if you’d used birth control to begin with, we wouldn't have the two brats we've got now. Don’t go blaming me for that.”

“The church is very clear…”

“Fuck the church,” Jack said.

There was silence and Brian could see that his mother was giving Jack that stony glare she always gave whenever anyone said anything bad about the church.

“You should have just gotten an abortion,” Jack said. “Then we never would have been trapped in this sham of a marriage. You want to blame someone for this shit, then blame your fucking church. In the meantime, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life celibate because you’re a frigid bitch. I’ll fuck who I want, when I want. No apologies and no regrets.”

The scene went dark and Brian felt himself grow cold. He hadn't felt cold before, but now… he couldn't be sure if it was because they were traveling again or if it was because of the words of his father that seemed to echo through his head. ‘No apologies and no regrets.’ It was a credo he had built his life upon for so many years. He never knew that it had come from his father.

“Where are we going this time?” Brian asked the spirit. He had definitely aged since his first appearance in Brian’s bedroom. He now looked to be a teenager.

“Here,” the spirit said.

As he spoke, Brian realized that they had arrived outside the Novotny residence. Brian smiled as he saw the same tacky decorations that Debbie put up every year. They were a bit newer, but still the same. Brian followed the spirit around to the back yard and found himself and Michael as they had looked when they were fifteen years old. They were huddled against the garage and sneaking a cigarette.

“Ma’s gonna kill us if she catches us,” Mikey said.

Teen Brian shrugged nonchalantly. “So we won’t let her catch us. And if she does, just blame me. She always thinks I’m the root of all trouble anyway.”

“That’s ‘cause you usually are the root of all trouble,” Mikey smirked. Mikey took the offered cigarette and coughed quite violently after taking a drag. “I’m glad you decided to come over for Christmas. It was pretty awesome.”

“Better than staying in the war zone,” Brian said with another shrug.

“I wish you could live with us all the time,” Mikey said. “It would be really cool.”

“Not hardly,” Brian said. “Your mom hates me.”

“She doesn't hate you,” Mikey said. “She just thinks you get into too much trouble. She worries about you.”

“She’s worried I’m going to drag you down with me,” Brian countered. “She doesn't give a fuck about me.”

The back door opened and teen Brian hastily crushed out the cigarette. Vic poked his head out and called to them. “Get your asses in here, and go upstairs and wash up for dinner. Don’t let Debbie catch you smelling like smoke.”

Teen Brian rolled his eyes but he followed Mikey into the house. Vic kept Debbie busy in the kitchen while the two boys rushed up the stairs to clean up and maybe spray on some of Vic’s cologne to cover the smell of smoke. Brian finished first and headed back down the stairs. He stopped when he heard Vic and Debbie talking about him.

“Do those boys really think I’m that stupid that I don’t know what they get up to behind the garage?” Debbie huffed as she carried the food to the table.

“They’re teens,” Vic said. “They think everyone over the age of thirty is both blind and stupid.”

“Who’s over thirty,” Debbie said smartly and they both laughed. “Seriously, though, Vic. What am I gonna do with that boy? You’re gone most of the year, so you don’t see the bruises and shit. I could just strangle that boy’s father.”

“All you can do is be there for him,” Vic sighed.

“In the meantime, he’s gonna self-destruct if he doesn't wise up,” Debbie said. “I don’t want him to take Michael down with him.”

Teen Brian clenched his fists. He knew that Debbie meant well, but he hated the pity she had in her eyes every time she looked at him. But what was worse was that she believed that he wasn't strong enough to make something of himself. Brian went back up the stairs quietly and told Michael that he forgot that he had to be home and left the house before anyone could protest.

Brian recalled that Christmas vividly. It was Debbie’s doubts that had motivated him to be the best in school and get into college with an academic scholarship. It had been her pity that had taught him to put up a brave front and pretend that he was better than anyone else. He never wanted to feel the way he had on those stairs. He never wanted anyone’s pity.

As Brian watched it all unfold, however, he was surprised that the scene didn't shift when his younger self left. Instead, he watched as Vic and Debbie continued to talk.

“I think he’ll surprise you, Deb,” Vic said. “He’s going to be somebody someday. If for no other reason than to prove his father wrong. He doesn't need our pity or our judgment. He needs our support.”

Debbie nodded, duly chastised. “I suppose you’re right. That is one smart boy. Too smart sometimes. I still worry, though.”

“You wouldn't be a mother if you didn't,” Vic said as he kissed his sister’s cheek.

The scene finally faded and Brian found himself in the darkness once again, only the light from the boy, who was now a man, illuminating the night. He didn't bother to ask where they were going this time. He figured he would find out soon enough.

Sure enough, moments later, they arrived at the munchers’ house. Brian followed the spirit inside and saw that the only decorations were the Christmas tree and a menorah. It must have been the Christmas after they bought the house, Brian deduced. That had been the year he agreed to become a sperm donor.

Again, he wasn't present in the scene. Instead, Melanie and Lindsay were in the kitchen cooking. “I still don’t see why you want that asshole to be the father of our child.”

Lindsay rolled her eyes at her partner. “He’s not as bad as you think. And he’s got great genes. Besides, I think he’ll make a wonderful father.”

Melanie shook her head. “It’s your decision, but I still think we should go with an anonymous donor. It would be simpler.”

“But then our child would never know his father,” Lindsay said. “He would always wonder about where he came from. This way, I know Brian will be around. He may say that he’ll have nothing to do with Gus, but I know he’ll want to be a part of his life. He’s more sensitive than you think.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mel muttered. “And he hasn't agreed to do it yet.”

“He will,” Lindsay said.

Brian snorted. Lindsay was so fucking sure of herself. But she had been right. He had agreed. He had believed, like Melanie, that he would never get attached to an infant, even if he did share DNA. It wasn't like he cared about his sister or his parents. No, blood didn't guarantee love. But then Brian remembered the night Gus was born, the way his son had looked up at him with total trust and he had been lost. How could he not love his child?

They traveled through time and space once again, but this time back to his loft. Only it wasn't the loft he had left just hours before. This was the loft of the past. There were a few Christmas decorations around and Brian knew exactly when they were seeing. There had only been one Christmas with decorations at his loft. Only one person had the balls to disregard his every derogatory remark about the dreaded Christmas season.

“Justin,” Brian murmured just as that blond walked through the door and turned on the lights of the Christmas tree. He smiled and hummed to himself as he changed clothes and then prepared dinner for two. Brian could not take his eyes off of the young man who had for a few brief months been his entire world. He walked over and wanted to touch him, but the spirit stopped him.

“He cannot see you or hear you,” the spirit said. He was now an old man and Brian could hardly see the child he had been not so long ago.

Brian nodded to acknowledge the spirit but he could not take his eyes off of the blond in front of him. There had never been another man who had gotten past Brian’s rules. He was the only man that made Brian want to believe in love and happily ever after. From the moment had seen Justin standing beneath the streetlight, he had been lost to the boy. And yet, he had not been able to accept the fact that Justin was the love of his life. He put up barrier after barrier to keep the blond at arm’s length. But Justin was persistent and had just kept coming back time after time. Every trick Brian tried, Justin brushed off like a horse swatting at a fly. Brian had sometimes wondered if Justin even noticed when Brian did those hurtful things to him.

Brian knew the moment when Justin spotted the note his past self had left for him on the nightstand in the bedroom. Justin stared at it with his face filled with fear and dread. The blond picked it up carefully, as though afraid it would burst into flames at any moment. He read it and all of the joy and happiness drained out of him; he ended up slumped on the edge of the bed looking like his best friend had died.

“I took off,” Brian said quietly as he sat as close to Justin as he could in his insubstantial form. He wasn't sure if he was talking to the spirit or to Justin. “I told him I don’t do holidays and just took off like I always do. He had everything planned and I didn't even bother to tell him I was leaving.”

Brian continued to sit on the bed beside Justin, who was now sobbing into his pillow. He wanted to hold him and sooth his grief. “I didn't know… He never said anything. I got back and he never said anything. He asked if I had fun. I told him about all the men I had fucked.”

“He knew that you were not ready to settle down. He loved you enough to wait,” the spirit said. Suddenly, the scene changed. They were still in the loft, but it was sunny out and looked to be late spring. Brian stood with the spirit in the corner near the window and watched the scene unfold.

Justin walked into the loft and smiled. Brian had ordered dinner for the two of them and was setting the table. It was such a domestic scene and Justin smiled. Brian might not realize how he felt for Justin, but Justin seemed to know. As he had once said, he was on to Brian Kinney.

“How was your day dear?” Brian drawled, tongue in cheek, when he saw Justin watching him.

“It was good,” Justin said. He kicked off his sneakers and sat his backpack near the loft door before heading over to join Brian at the table. He was a little nervous about telling Brian how his day really went and it showed in the way he fiddled with his chopsticks while Brian got himself a beer and Justin a bottle of water.

Brian handed Justin the water and looked at Justin’s tense shoulders. “It was so good that you look about as happy as Mikey did when I accidentally ruined one of his comics when we were kids?”

Justin sighed. “It really was good. Sort of.”

“Explain,” Brian ordered as he dug into his meal.

Justin set down his chopsticks and explained. “I was called into the office this afternoon. The principal and some guy that I had never met were there. Well, it turns out he’s from some sort of foundation that selects an artist each year and sponsors their education. They saw some of the work I displayed at the GLC and want me to be their artist this year.”

“That’s not good news, that’s great news, considering your asshole father is being a prick about paying your tuition to PIFA,” Brian said. Justin was still tense. “So, what’s the catch?”

Justin took a drink of his water. “There’s not really a catch. It’s just that they don’t simply offer a scholarship to the school of your choice. It’s a program that not only includes a college education, but over summer and winter breaks I would apprentice with some of the world’s master artists. Not just painters, but artisans and craftsmen and sculptors.”

“I’m still not hearing a downside to all this,” Brian said. “So where would you go to school?”

“The Florence Academy,” Justin said softly.

“Florence? As in Italy?” Brian asked with surprise.

“It’s one of the best schools in the world,” Justin said glumly. “I would be studying with some of the best instructors in the world, have access to some of the greatest museums, and apprentice with masters.”

Brian swallowed down his beer and closed his eyes briefly before turning a smile to Justin. “You have to accept.”

“I know,” Justin said. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, one any artist would kill to have. But…”

“Sunshine, we both knew that this wasn't going to be a permanent thing,” Brian said. “You have your whole life ahead of you. You still have things you need to do before you even consider settling down with one man.”

“Like?”

“Go to college,” Brian said. “See the world. Fuck as many men as you want. Make a shit load of money. Become the best fucking homosexual you can be.”

“And if I do all those things, I’ll be ready to settle down?” Justin asked in a rueful tone.

Brian shrugged. “What the fuck do I know about settling down?”

Brian watched from the corner as Justin watched his Brian. He knew that he didn't want Justin to go, but he also knew that it was what was right for him. Justin knew it was what was right, as well, though Brian liked to think that he hated the idea of leaving Brian just when things were starting to get good between them. Brian at 30 years old hadn't been any more ready to settle down than Justin was at 18. Brian had just begun to grow up. Despite the difference in their ages, in some ways, Justin was more mature than Brian. They both needed time to grow up if they were ever going to be more than what they were then. At least that's what Brian told himself after Justin was gone and he was drinking himself into a stupor.

“When would you leave?” Brian finally asked.

“The school year in Europe is a bit different than here. I’d have to leave in three weeks,” Justin explained. “It means I’d miss the prom and graduation. But the principal, Mr. Stewart, said I could take my exams early. He’s already planning on using this as some sort of proof of how great St. James is.” Justin snorted with disgust. “Like they were ever concerned for me or my art before now.”

“Shit. Three weeks isn't much time,” Brian muttered.

Justin stood up and walked around the table before planting himself in Brian’s lap. “I guess we’ll have to make the most of the time we have left.”

The scene faded and Brian noticed that the darkness they had been traveling through was beginning to lighten with the dawn. The old man’s light, however was beginning to fade. “We must hurry. I do not have much time left.”

They arrived at the Pittsburgh airport and Brian didn't want to watch the scene that he knew was coming.

“Take me back now,” Brian said. “I don’t need to see this. I remember it well enough.”

“You must see this,” the spirit said before he faded into nothing, leaving Brian standing there alone to watch the end of his affair with Justin.

“I’m going to call and write,” Justin said. “You’ll be so sick of me that it will be like I never even left.”

“If you call, I’ll change my number, and any mail will be sent back unopened,” Brian said firmly. “You need to forget about me Justin. You have a chance at a great life. You need to take it and never look back.”

“I can’t just walk away and forget you,” Justin protested. “I love you.”

Brian shook his head. “No you don’t. You just think you do. Love isn't real; it’s just an excuse people use to hurt each other.”

“Fuck that,” Justin said angrily. “I know what I feel. I love you, and you love me even if you’re too chicken shit to ever say it.”

“I’m not afraid,” Brian said, though he knew in his heart that he was. “I've never said it because I don’t love you. I felt sorry for you. Your dad kicked you out because of me so I took you in. But now your life is back on track. You have a chance at a future and I can go back to doing what I want without feeling guilty.”

“Fucking everything with a cock,” Justin muttered bitterly. “Fine, you do that. It won’t keep you from becoming a lonely old man, but whatever floats your boat. Don’t worry, I won’t call or bother you again.”

Justin turned and walked towards the security gate, his entire body was shaking with the force of his sobs but Brian couldn't look away. He watched Justin every second until he finally disappeared from sight. Past Brian continued to stand there for nearly an hour after Justin had gone. He couldn't quite bring himself to move. When he did finally move, it wasn't far. He went to the nearest men’s room and closed himself inside of one of the stalls and let his own tears finally fall.

Brian watched all of this and felt his heart breaking all over again. He shouted to The-Powers-That-Be, “What’s the fucking point of all this? Are you trying to break me? Well it’s fucking working!!” He felt his own tears stream down his face as the light faded and he was in darkness once more.


	3. Christmas Present

**Chapter Three: Christmas Present**

Brian awoke once again in his bed. He stared up at his ceiling and groaned. He was never taking anything from Anita again; he’d find another dealer. This night had to be the residual effects of some bad shit she gave him. He never once considered that any of it was real.

The loft was dark except for the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree. Where the fuck did that come from? Brian wondered. The tree was huge and, standing in the center of the loft, it was impossible to miss. There were decorations all over it and Brian couldn't help walking closer to see what they were. They looked like ordinary silver Christmas balls but as he neared, he noted that they didn't reflect him or the loft around him. Each silver ball showed other people, other places, all celebrating Christmas. Most were happy scenes, but there were some that showed anger or grief. As he stared at one, it shifted from one scene to another and then shifted again for a third time. And there seemed to be thousands of them.

“They are amazing, aren't they?” A loud and booming voice said, startling Brian into almost dropping the ball he was examining.

Brian turned to see a huge bear of a man decked out in red and green velvet robes, trimmed with white fur that Brian suspected to be ermine. He looked like a cross between royalty and one of Emmett’s worst fashion disasters. Brian grimaced at the sight.

“Don’t like the robes?” the man asked. He waved his hand and the robes melted into a pair of jeans and a red and green plaid flannel shirt. He now looked like a lumberjack, but at least it wasn't quite as bad as before.

“You must be the spirit of Christmas present,” Brian drawled.

“That I am,” the big guy laughed. He looked around the loft. “But you can just call me Chris. Nice place you have here, but it could do with a little holiday spirit.”

With another wave of his hand, Brian’s loft was filled with Christmas decorations. There were fresh green boughs strung with lights everywhere. There was an elegant centerpiece on his table with candles and more greens. Everything had elegant little red bows and silver ornaments to match the tree that still took up the bulk of his floor space. There was even a stocking hung by a gas fireplace that had never been there before.

“That’s much better.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Can we just get on with the tour?”

“Certainly!” Chris chuckled and it seemed to reverberate through the loft. “Take my arm and we’ll be off.”

Brian did as instructed and soon they were flashing through time and space once again. Though since they weren't going very far or very long, the trip was a lot shorter than it had been with the last guy. Soon they arrived at a familiar house and Brian warily followed the spirit inside.

The living room at the munchers was a total disaster zone. There was torn wrapping paper, toys and presents all over the place. As they entered, however, there were squeals of delight and laughter ringing through the house. Gus and JR seemed to be having the time of their young lives while Melanie and Lindsay watched with indulgent smiles. Brian stood back and watched the scene unfold for quite some time.

In some ways, Brian was envious of the childhood his son was having. It was so different to the one that he had gone through. There might be the occasional fight between the munchers, but they were good mothers. They would never lash out at Gus or hit him. They would never ignore him in favor of their addictions. He would never have to worry about being loved or knowing how to love because this house was filled with it.

Brian watched as Gus crawled into his mom’s lap while Mel and JR went to the kitchen to get ready for breakfast.

“What’s the matter, Gus?” Lindsay asked a suddenly subdued Gus.

Gus shrugged but it was obvious that he was sad. “I made a present for Daddy, but he’s not here. I kept wishing and hoping that he’d come. Christmas is such a happy time and Daddy’s never really happy. I thought if he came today, he’d be happier. I even asked Santa if he could make Daddy come, but he’s not here. I guess Jimmy was right and there really isn't a Santa.”

“Jimmy wasn't right,” Lindsay said. “It just sometimes takes Santa longer to make some wishes come true and sometimes we have to give him a hand. Your Daddy loves you, but he wasn't as lucky as you are. He didn't grow up with all the love and happiness we have, so he doesn't know how to feel those things. But if we keep on loving him and showing him, he’ll get it eventually.”

There were tears in both mother and son’s eyes as the scene faded and they were once again traveling. Brian was filled with remorse. How could he have hurt his son like that and never even known it?

They arrived at the Novotny house and it looked almost exactly the same as it had when Brian was a teen. There was something comforting about that even if the decorations were tackier than a velvet Elvis painting. Brian followed the ghost inside once again. The whole gang was there, eating (of course), laughing, and generally just enjoying the day. Brian watched in fascination as his friends—his surrogate family—celebrated the holiday without him. Eventually, JR and Gus fell asleep and were put to bed in Mikey’s old room. When Debbie passed around the eggnog for the traditional round of toasts, Brian sat up and paid attention.

“To family, in whatever shape it may take,” Carl said before kissing Debbie’s cheek.

“To family,” everyone echoed before sipping from their glasses and mugs.

“May the next year be as filled with love and laughter as the last,” Emmett said.

Again the gang all echoed his sentiment and sipped their drinks. One by one each of the family members made a toast and Brian had to shake his head at the sentimentality of the moment. Brian would have been making snarky comments if he had been there in person, keeping the sentimentality in check, but in his current situation, he had no choice but to listen and observe. Brian found himself laughing along with the family at some of the sillier toasts and even tearing up a little bit at some of the more emotional. And then it came Mel’s turn.

“To Brian Kinney, our own personal Scrooge, wherever he may be tonight.”

“Mel,” Lindsay scolded softly.

Debbie shook her head sadly. “I just wish he would come around more. It seems like he’s been pulling further and further away since…”

“Since that twink left,” Michael filled in. “It’s that blond twink’s fault.”

“Bullshit,” Debbie said. “The only time Brian willingly participated in any holiday with this family was when Justin was here.”

“Whatever happened to him?” Emmett asked. “I mean, I know he got that scholarship but…”

Debbie shrugged. “Jennifer said he did very well with school, but he’s… he’s not the same boy who left here four years ago. He graduated a year early, pushed himself to the point of exhaustion to do it. And he still finished at the top of his class. He’s spent the last year building up his reputation in Europe and recently moved back to the states. She didn't say where he was living though.”

“I've read a little bit about his work in the art journals,” Lindsay said. “He’s extremely talented and his work is already demanding a huge price. His gallery sales go for upwards of eight thousand dollars apiece. One painting went for more than thirty grand at auction. And he’s been doing some sculpting as well. That goes for even higher fees, since there a fewer pieces on the market.”

“Well, at least he’s made something of himself,” Ted said. “If he had stayed here, he might have wasted his life following after Brian, waiting for the impossible to happen. Brian was never going to love that kid.”

“Bullshit,” Debbie said again. “Brian already loved that kid. That’s why he let him go.”

The room erupted into a heated debate as to Brian’s ability to love and the likelihood that he had loved Justin. Brian shook his head at their antics and hoped that they would leave soon. It was bad enough that he knew that he had loved the kid, but to listen to the family talk about it made his head hurt. He knew he had hurt Justin often during their brief affair. He knew that he was not good for the kid, but to hear his friends and family confirm that… well, it hurt.

“Maybe Justin was good for Brian, but there is no way that Brian was anything but a detriment to Justin,” Melanie said.

Brian wanted to defend himself, if for no other reason than to piss off Melanie, but he couldn't.

“Brian took the twink in when his dad threw him out,” Michael pointed out.

“Brian caused him to get thrown out in the first place,” Mel argued.

“No he didn't,” Debbie said with a frown. “I talked to Jennifer about all of that. Craig hit Justin when he came out to his father. And Brian tried to help him settle things with his father. He encouraged Justin to work things out. But Craig said that the only way Justin could move home was if Justin denied being gay. So Brian brought Justin to live here, though I think he lived more with Brian than he did with Vic and me.”

“That’s not true,” Michael said. “Brian…”

“It’s true,” Lindsay said. “Justin was always there whenever I dropped in or dropped Gus off. Justin loved spending time with Gus.”

“When Justin was going to give in to his father and go to Dartmouth, Brian is the one who convinced him that his parents’ divorce wasn't his fault,” Debbie continued. “And he helped Justin get his application for PIFA together. He made sure that Justin continued with his art lessons even though his father refused to pay for them any longer. He even put Justin on his insurance so that he could keep getting his allergy medications. Brian did a lot for Justin without anyone ever knowing it.”

Brian shook his head in defeat. He wished that Debbie would just shut up.

“Brian does a lot for all of us without anyone ever knowing it,” Debbie continued. “Lindsay, Melanie, how often has Brian given you money for Gus and JR? How often has he made sure that things just go smoothly when you need something? Like when you wanted Gus to get into that preschool. Brian went behind the scenes and pulled strings so that he got in.”

“He got Michael the loan for the comic book store,” Ted said.

Michael looked at Ted with shock. “I got that from the bank.”

“He made sure your application was accepted,” Ted said. “And he guaranteed the loan.”

“He also gave you the comic book you sold for the down payment,” Debbie reminded him.

“He hired me when no one else would,” Ted added. “After rehab, no one would touch me, but Brian trusted me and put me to work. His faith in me did more for my shattered self-esteem than a year of therapy could.”

“He’s always making anonymous donations to the causes he derides,” Lindsay said. “I see the books at the GLC. He’s given a rather large donation to them every year. He also sponsors events, like that Gay Marriage Gala last fall.”

“He’s always sending clients my way,” Emmett said.

“So he’s a prick in public and a saint in private?” Mel asked incredulously.

“No, he’s just afraid to show that he cares,” Lindsay said quietly.

The spirit touched Brian’s shoulder. He was not smiling or laughing now. Brian sighed and took the man’s arm again. The room faded and Brian felt himself moving once more.

They arrived moments later at a gated house in the country somewhere. It had been night time when they left Debbie’s but it was now daylight again, around noon if Brian judged the sun's position correctly. The property where they had landed was surrounded by woods and a large stone fence with an iron gate. The spirit led Brian up the long drive in silence.

“Is this where Justin lives?” Brian asked. He hoped it was. He wanted to see the young man again, even if he couldn't speak to him or touch him.

“It is,” the spirit agreed.

“Where are we?” Brian asked.

“About twenty miles outside of Pittsburgh,” the spirit told him.

“Justin is living here?” Brian asked. “Just outside of Pittsburgh?”

“That’s what I said,” the spirit said with a smirk.

Brian followed the spirit into a rather spacious old Victorian house. It wasn't a mansion by any means, but there was plenty of room from what Brian could see. The house was rather well furnished with an eclectic but stylish array of furniture. Brian could see himself living in a place like this someday. It was much nicer than any home he had ever lived. It was even nicer than the loft.

“He bought this outright with the earnings from his art,” the spirit told Brian.

Brian nodded, pleased that Justin had done so well for himself. He looked around but there was no sign of Justin in the main part of the house. He followed the spirit through the house and out the back door. There was a deck and a pool in the back, but they passed that quickly and moved towards the detached garage. Up the stairs, there was another door through which they passed before finally found Justin in a perfectly lit studio.

He wasn't alone. There was a man with dark hair, a goatee and an almost too skinny body arguing with Justin.

“Fuck, Justin,” the man said. “It’s fucking Christmas. Can’t you stop painting for a few hours and celebrate with me?”

“I told you, Ethan, I don’t do holidays,” Justin said coolly. “Go away and let me work.”

“But Justin,” Ethan whined. “You never go out. We never go dancing or to a bar. You work all the time. I thought we could spend some time together now. Instead, it’s worse than in Paris. Come on, it’s Christmas. I don’t want to celebrate by myself.”

“Jesus, Ethan,” Justin swore and tossed aside his paint brush before storming over to the work sink. “I never asked you to come here with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure I told you to stay in Paris. I told you to take that offer from the French orchestra.”

“But I would have been travelling all the time,” Ethan said. “We never would have seen each other.”

“Exactly,” Justin muttered before turning to face Ethan. “Listen, it’s been fun and all, but I think you forgot that I don’t do boyfriends. I’m not interested in setting up house and pretending to be just like the hetero couples you see on TV. That’s bullshit. I would think you would know that by now.”

“Justin, I love you,” Ethan said.

“No, you don’t,” Justin told him. “You love your music and you love your adoring fans. You don’t love me. And I certainly don’t love you. Go back home Ethan. I’m done.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ethan said.

“I do,” Justin said. “There’s an open ended ticket with your name on it on my desk in the study. Take it. Go wherever the fuck you want to go, but go today. Feel free to use the credit card I gave you, but I’ll be closing that account in two weeks. Make sure you can pay your way by then.”

“Justin…”

“Get out!” Justin shouted.

Ethan stared at him for a long minute before turning and walking out the door Brian and the spirit had just come through. Justin stood stone still for a couple minutes until the steps of the other man could no longer be heard in the distance.

Justin sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Happy Brian? You taught me well.”

Brian was startled when Justin spoke to him, but he soon realized that Justin couldn't really see him. He was just speaking his thoughts aloud.

“No emotional attachments,” Justin said. “Maybe I should take up your one time only rule. It would avoid scenes like this one. But then again, it’s tough getting that kind of volume without becoming a regular on Liberty. I wonder what you would say if we met up at Babylon some night.”

Justin sighed again and began cleaning his brushes. “You said you wanted me to remember my first time, so that you would be with me every time, no matter who I was with in the future. Well, you got your wish. There isn't a single fuck in four years that I didn't wish was you.

“I tried to move on. I tried to hate you, but it never stuck,” Justin sighed. “I could go anywhere in the world, and where do I decide to go? Pittsburgh. I’m such a fucking twat. I have to be near you even if I can never see you. Why the fuck is that?”

“I’m sorry,” Brian said softly as he stood beside Justin. He wanted to wipe the tears from his eyes, but he couldn't. “I never meant for you to become like me. I thought… You’re too good for this. You’re better than that. You deserve the white picket fence dream, Justin. You deserve love.”

“I thought my father loved me, but it was a lie,” Justin said as he moved over to the windows that overlooked the snow covered garden. “I thought that Brian loved me but that was a lie too. Ethan says he loves me but he fucks around behind my back. He says he wants a monogamous relationship but he cheats every time he’s away from me for more than an hour. Love is nothing but bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Brian said. “I loved you, I just… I fucked up. Don’t give up on love because I’m an emotionally stunted prick.”

Justin sighed again and went back to his painting. Brian, for the first time, saw what he was creating. It was a picture of the loft, empty and desolate, much like it had been that Christmas when Brian had left Justin with only a note. Brian shivered with dread as the room went dark and he knew that his time in the present had ended.


	4. Christmas Future

**Chapter Four: Christmas Future**

Brian wasn't really surprised when he woke up in his bed this time. He had been expecting that. The tree was gone and the loft was dark. Even the streetlight outside seemed to have lost its brightness in the gloom. Brian stood and walked over to the window and saw that a dense fog had fallen over the city and hardly any light could get through, though there was an eerie glow in the mists.

Brian shivered, recalling the Grim Reaper-like spirit that had been part of every version of A Christmas Carol he had ever read or been forced to watch. He had no desire to run into a character like that. Even as that thought passed through his mind, however, an indistinct shadow passed along the street below his window. Brian took a deep breath and waited. It was only a couple minutes before the spirit was knocking on his door. It sounded more like a death knell than any human knock and Brian shivered again from dread.

Almost of their own volition, Brian’s legs took him over to the door and he soon was sliding the heavy steel door aside. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the dreadful creature.

“Open your eyes, fuckwit,” a familiar voice said.

Brian blinked his eyes and was shocked to see Melanie standing there dressed completely in black. Even her hair was pitch black. She looked rather Goth

“Oh, I’m not really Melanie,” the spirit said. “The-Powers-That-Be just decided that the big scary Grim Reaper was a little over the top. So they gave me a familiar face instead. We should get going. We really don’t have much time and we have three stops to make. Come on asshole, get a move on.”

Brian reluctantly took a hold of the spirit’s arm and felt the now familiar rush of time and space passing around him. They landed outside the munchers’ house once again, the door decorated with a cheerful holiday wreath. This time they did not go inside. Brian could hear that there was an argument raging in the house. At first he thought that the male voice he could hear was his own, but when the door opened and a teen-aged boy came out, he realized that it must be Gus.

“Fuck what you want,” Gus raged. “Fuck you and mom and especially fuck Dad! I’m not fucking going and that’s it.”

“Gus, get your ass back here,” Lindsay shouted as she came to the door. “We are not finished discussing this.”

“No,” Gus shouted from the end of the walk. “I’m done talking about it. I’m done listening to you guys try to justify this shit. You don’t want me to live with you, fine! I won’t. But I’m sure as fuck not going to live with dear old dad. That fucker doesn't care if I’m alive or dead. So fuck you all. I’m going to Joe’s. Maybe I’ll come back… someday.”

Gus strode off, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his scowl still in place.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Brian asked the ghost.

The Melanie look-alike shrugged. “Gus is a very trouble kid. He’s been arrested three times this year for petty theft. He’s become rebellious and fallen in with a bad crowd. His mothers found drugs in his room and confronted him. They thought that you might be able to help him, since you had a bit of a wild youth yourself, but you can see how that turned out.”

“Why does he hate me?” Brian said.

The spirit laughed coldly. “You never were there for him. Even when you were there, you never let him see you cared. You may not have yelled or hit him, but your distance was debilitating. Come on, we have to go if we’re going to catch the next stop in time.”

They appeared on a street corner somewhere that Brian didn't recognize, but he knew this place even if he didn't know the city. It was a street just like Liberty Avenue. All the gay men and women were there. There were gay clubs and bars and the same licentious atmosphere in the night air.

Brian walked up the street beside the spirit and paused when she pointed. Gus was there, under a street lamp. It looked like he was hustling and hadn't had a decent meal or bath in weeks.

“No,” Brian said emphatically. “No. Not Gus.”

Even as he denied it, a man in a car drove up and shouted, “How much?”

Gus looked at him through bloodshot eyes and said, “Fifty for a blow, hundred for a fuck.”

“I’ll give you two hundred for a fuck without a condom,” the sleaze said with a leer.

“No! Gus, no!” Brian shouted and rushed across the street, but the street disappeared and they were once again outside Justin’s house. “What the fuck?!”

“Our next stop,” Melanie said smugly.

Brian glared at her, but eventually his eyes were drawn to the house before him. It looked a lot less grand than it had on his last visit. The paint was peeling and the landscaping had all overgrown.

“Where’s Justin?” Brian asked grudgingly.

“Inside,” the spirit said.

They went through the gates and up the long drive once again. Brian noted other things that had been neglected. The drive now had large cracks and several small pot holes. The shutters around the windows were hanging slightly askew. The house was dark and looked almost sinister.

“The kids in the neighborhood call this the old Taylor place,” Melanie said casually. “They think it’s haunted. They often dare each other to ring the doorbell. Not one has ever been brave enough to actually make it all the way up the drive. It wouldn't do them any good if they did. No one will answer.”

Brian shook his head at that. “Why?”

“The owner never accepts visitors,” Melanie said. She opened the door and gestured for Brian to enter. “Go on.”

Brian did as he was bade and stepped across the threshold. In the gloom, he could just make out a light coming from a partially open door down the hall. He went there and found Justin in the study with another man, sitting on opposite sides of a desk. Justin looked a lot older than he had the last time Brian saw him, perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what the curator wants,” Justin told the guy. “I don’t make public appearances and I won’t sign a contract that says I will.”

“Justin, you haven’t left the house in more than five years,” the man said. “You need to get out. Or at the very least, see someone about this.”

“I don’t need a shrink,” Justin muttered. “I’m perfectly sane. I’m not agoraphobic. I just don’t fucking like people. I have no desire to make nice with the grocer. Nor do I want to suck up to the so-called art aficionados. They’re all pretentious assholes who don’t know a thing about art beyond what they've read in the rags. Fuck that. I won’t do it. If the curator at MOMA doesn't like it, he can suck it. I don’t need to have my work hung on his walls. I was doing them a favor by donating that painting. I can take it back if they don’t want it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the guy said with exasperation. “You aren't taking the painting back. I’ll make your excuses. I’m sure it won’t be a surprise to anyone.”

“I don’t know why they thought I’d agree in the first place,” Justin grumbled.

The man sighed. “I don’t either. On another topic that I know is going to piss you off, have you called the doctor about that pain you've been having in your arm?”

Justin snorted. “He thinks it’s my heart and wants me to go to the hospital for tests. It’s a waste of fucking time and money. I’ll die when I die. There’s no reason to hang around for decades worrying about my health while slowly my mind stops working. I’d rather go now than linger. It says so in my living will.”

“I know,” the man sighed. “I wrote the damned thing for you. Uncle Justin, please reconsider.”

“You should be glad,” Justin said. “My only nephew. You’ll inherit a fortune.”

“I’d rather have you around the man said sadly. “Even if you are an impossible ass sometimes. Come to the house for Christmas. Mom really wants to see you and you know she can’t get out here very well.”

“Damned doctors,” Justin said. “They couldn't help her after the accident. Now she’s stuck in that damned wheel chair. You should have seen her dance when she was younger, Jamie. She was a sight to behold.”

“I've seen some of the videos, Uncle Justin,” Jamie said. “I remember the one of the two of you dancing at her wedding. You both looked so happy then.”

“It was a happy day,” Justin sighed.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Jamie asked. “The family loves you and we miss you.”

“He hasn't left the house since his mother died five years ago,” the spirit said, making Brian jump a little. “She was the only one who could guilt him into leaving.”

“Why?” Brian asked.

The spirit smiled sadly. “A few years from now, Justin will go out for a night at the clubs in Chicago. He will meet a very attractive man and go home with him for sex. Unfortunately, the man will not be kind or gentle. He will hurt Justin and steal his money and leave him to die in a gutter. It is only because of the help of a stranger that he will survive. He will face months of medical procedures and therapy. His attacker will go to trial and get off with community service. Justin will lose what little faith in humanity that he had left.”

“Fuck,” Brian muttered. “Why would he just go home with some fucking asshole?”

“Why wouldn't he?” Melanie asked in reply. “Isn't that how he met you? Isn't that what you taught him to do? ‘Maximum pleasure and minimum bullshit?’”

“Fuck,” Brian muttered again.

The two men at the desk both sighed and stood up. They would not resolve anything tonight. “The gifts for the family are in the hall. Make sure that little Jenny gets that doll she wanted. I bought the whole set, with the outfit and stroller and everything.”

Jamie nodded. “I’ll be back in a few days. Call me if you need anything.”

“I always do,” Justin said with a ghost of a smile.

Brian and Justin both watched Jamie leave the dark house. Justin sat back down and Brian sat in the chair that Jamie had vacated.

“Don’t do this, Sunshine,” Brian said. “This isn't you. This isn't the man I fell in love with.”

Justin began to rub his left arm and Brian noticed him grimace with pain. “Looks like it’ll happen a little earlier than I thought,” Justin said as he moved from rubbing his arm to rubbing his chest. His breathing became labored. He looked up and seemed to see Brian sitting there. “Brian. You still look just as beautiful as ever.”

“Call for help, Justin,” Brian said. “Call your nephew back here. This is not the way you are meant to die. Not alone, like this.”

“Alone like you,” Justin gasped out. “I went to your funeral last year. No one knows I was there. There really wasn't anyone to there to know. They buried you next to Gus. I bought the plot on your other side. I guess we’ll be together now.”

“No!” Brian shouted. He turned to the spirit. “Do something! This isn't how it was supposed to be! Fix it!”

“I cannot,” the spirit said almost regretfully.

Justin fell back in his chair and Brian rushed to his side. For some reason, he could feel Justin in his arms.

“One last kiss?” Justin asked.

Brian felt like his chest was filled with lead and his eyes couldn't focus through the tears, but he managed to find Justin’s lips with his own. The kiss they shared was filled with love and emotion and when Brian finally pulled away, Justin gave him a small smile. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Please don’t leave me, Justin,” Brian cried. “Please. I love you!”

“Too late,” Justin said. “Forty years too late.”

When Justin breathed his last, Brian felt like his whole world had come to an end. He glared at the spirit. “Why? Why the fuck would you show me this?! Fucking change it! He’s supposed to be happy! He supposed to find the perfect man to love him the way I never could! He wasn't supposed to end up alone! I was the one who was supposed to die alone. I’m the unlovable one! Not him!”

“Who said you are unlovable?” the spirit asked. “He loved you. So many people have loved you, but you have turned them away one by one. You say it is for their good, but it wasn't good for Justin and it wasn't good for Gus either.”

Brian clutched Justin’s lifeless body close to him, but he looked away from spirit Melanie as he answered her question. “My parents.”

“Two people,” Melanie snorted. “Two ignorant people could not break through their own addictions and fears and anger long enough to love you. And because of that, you turned away every opportunity to love and be loved.”

The scene faded and Brian found himself alone at a grave. There were actually three there, and as Brian read their names, one by one, an overwhelming sense of grief overcame him. In life he had pushed the two most important people away from him, but in death they were there, side by side, for eternity. Brian brushed a leaf off of Gus’ gravestone and a sob of regret broke from his throat. “I’m so sorry, Sonny Boy,” Brian cried. “I never… I never wanted you to… You were supposed to be happy and safe with the munchers. I didn't know…”

Brian swiped angrily at the tears in his eyes before turning to Justin’s grave. “You were my Sunshine. I can’t… I can’t lose you again. I've got to make this right.”

Brian stood up and turned his face to the heavens. “Do you hear me?! I’m fucking going to make this right!”


	5. The Beginning of It

**Chapter Five: The Beginning of It**

Brian awoke to light streaming through his loft’s windows and took a deep breath. What time was it? What day was it? He looked at his cell phone and found out that it was only 6 in the morning on Christmas day. How was it possible that everything he had seen and experienced had happened all in one night? Brian wasn't going to question it, however; he knew what he had to do. He had to make things right. There was no way that Gus was going to die on the streets. There was no way that Justin was going to turn into a recluse more antisocial than Brian himself. He had been given a gift and he was going to take advantage of it.

Flipping open the phone in his hand, Brian clicked on the number four and listened as it rang. When it went to voice-mail, he hung up and dialed again. It wasn't until the third call that someone picked up.

“For fuck’s sake, Brian,” Cynthia complained sleepily. “It’s too early. And it’s Christmas for god’s sake!”

“I know, isn't that great?” Brian asked happily. “It’s Christmas!”

“Are you on something?”

Brian chuckled. “Nope, just happy. I need your help.”

“You always need my help,” Cynthia said with a long suffering sigh. “What is it this time?”

“I need you to do a little research for me,” Brian said. “Justin Taylor recently purchased a house about twenty miles outside of Pittsburgh. I need you to find out where and get me the address. Today if at all possible. Also, can you call up your man Josh? I need to do some last minute shopping.”

“Last minute?” Cynthia scoffed. The phone was muffled for a moment before Cynthia came back on. “Josh is right here. He says he’ll meet you at the store in an hour. And you had better make it worth his while for opening on Christmas morning. I’ll call you back when I get the information.”

“Josh is with you?” Brian asked with s smirk that could be heard over the phone. “Well, lucky you. Tell him I said thanks and I’ll definitely make it worth his while in a platonic non-sexual way. Wouldn't want my partner to be pissed off at me.”

“Wh- what?” Cynthia asked, not sure if she had heard correctly.

“Well, I figure we need a little reorganization at Kinnetik,” Brian drawled. “I need to cut back my hours so that I can concentrate more on my son and perhaps my other relationships. In order to do that, I think I’ll need a partner. You interested?”

“Fuck, Brian, you know I am,” Cynthia said quietly.

“Good,” Brian said. “After the holidays, you get me a new assistant trained up and we’ll discuss your new position as COO. And as a thank you for all the shit you've put up with from me over the years, I’m paying for two weeks wherever the fuck you want to go. Just have my new assistant book it. Take Josh with you.”

“And I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore,” Cynthia said with a chuckle. “I’ll get that address and get back to you.”

Brian hung up the phone and poured himself a cup of coffee. He knew exactly what he needed to do today and there wasn't a thing that could stop him. His pride was a thing of the past. If he had to beg and plead, he would get Justin to forgive him and take him back. He would be there for his son. Gus wouldn't lose faith in either Santa Claus or his father. And the family would finally see Brian Kinney, the man, instead of Brian Kinney, the legend.

After a quick shower, Brian went to look through his closet. He needed something festive for the special day. He chose a red cashmere sweater and paired it with his favorite jeans, the ones he usually only ever wore around the loft because they were so faded and comfortable. He pulled on his black leather duster and was ready to go. He looked relaxed in a way that most wouldn't recognize in him.

Outside, the snow had stopped falling, leaving the city blanketed in white, making even the dingy streets of Pittsburgh look magical. Brian laughed at his fanciful thought as he cleaned off his car and headed out.

“Hey, Brian,” Josh greeted when Brian met him at the store. “You do realize that most people do their shopping before Christmas morning.”

Brian poked his tongue into his cheek but chuckled good-naturedly. “I realize that. There was a last minute change in plans last night due to the weather and other circumstances.”

“Was there something specific you wanted?” Josh asked.

“Yes,” Brian said. “I saw them the last time I was in. Over here. Also that bracelet I asked you about.”

Josh whistled when he saw what Brian was pointing to. “Wow, Brian…”

“Not a word to anyone yet, Josh,” Brian said. “Not even Cynthia. You can tell her about the bracelet though.”

“You got it,” Josh said with a grin. “Thanks for the trip, by the way. I think Cynthia wants to go to Australia but I’m trying to nudge her towards Europe. Paris or Rome.”

“Go to Australia,” Brian advised. “You can go to Europe when I pay for your honeymoon.”

Josh’s jaw dropped. “How did you… I just asked her last night and I was there when she spoke to you on the phone!”

“Please,” Brian smirked playfully. “You breeder boys are all so predictable. Of course you were going to ask her for Christmas. I’m sure you gave her a kick ass ring.”

“Since I own a jewelry store, I think it was a given,” Josh said.

Brian smiled at him. “Just be good to her. She’s… she’s very special to me and she deserves to be happy.”

“I plan on making sure she is,” Josh said sincerely.

The transaction was soon completed and the two men parted ways on the street outside. Brian climbed into his car and headed in the direction of the munchers. The lights outside the house were lit up and Brian smiled. He could see where Gus had helped string the lights on the bushes because they were all bunched together. It didn't matter; it was still beautiful and magical just like that Christmas when he was three. Brian took a moment to just look at the display with renewed wonder.

Eventually, Brian tore himself away from the sight to ring the doorbell and waited for an answer.

When the door swung open, it was Melanie. “Wow. You actually graced us with your presence? Well, the gifts are opened, but we’re about to have breakfast, so you may as well come in.”

Brian leaned forward and kissed Mel’s cheek. “Thanks. Happy Holidays.”

Mel looked flabbergasted as Brian passed her and went inside. Lindsay and Gus were still sitting on the living room floor and Brian wondered if he had just missed the conversation about Santa.

“Daddy!” Gus shouted and ran into Brian’s arms for a tight hug. “You came!”

“Santa told me that you wished for me to be here,” Brian said. “I couldn't let a request from somebody so important go ignored.”

“Santa?” Gus asked.

“No, you, Sonny Boy,” Brian said and kissed Gus’ cheek. “I love you, Gus. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” Gus said. “Now put me down. I made something for you!”

Brian set Gus down and the boy ran to find his gift. Brian stared after him for a moment, and then he realized the girls were watching him with bemused looks on their faces. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lindsay said innocently. “Just… It’s good to see you looking so happy.”

“I plan on being happy a hell of a lot more often,” Brian said.

Gus came running back into the room and handed Brian an oddly shaped package wrapped with more tape than paper. “I wrapped it myself.”

“I can tell,” Brian said. He sat down in an empty chair and began the long process of removing the tape and paper until a small statuette was revealed. “Is that you and me?”

Gus nodded. “Teacher told us to make something that makes us happy from the clay. So I made you and me together.”

It was crude, but the two figures, one tall and lean, one small and just as lean, were clearly distinguishable. “It’s really good, Gus.”

“That’s what my teacher said,” Gus said proudly. “She put it out for parent teacher day. And she says I could be a sc-sculptor when I grow up. I’d like that.”

“Well, I might know someone who could give you lessons, but I have to talk to him first,” Brian said. “No promises.”

“That would be really cool, Daddy,” Gus said.

“This piece of art is going to have a place of honor in my office so that everyone who comes in will ask me who the great artist is,” Brian said. “And I’ll tell them, that’s my Sonny Boy.”

Gus giggled. “Daaaad, you’re silly. Come on. Let’s eat. I’m starving!”

The rest of the morning went better than Brian could have hoped. The girls soon got used to this softer side of Brian and Brian completely forgot that he had once avoided showing any sort of emotions to anyone. When Cynthia rang a little before noon, Brian reluctantly answered his phone. Only the promise of seeing Justin kept him from ignoring the call.

“I got the address,” Cynthia said. “He lives outside New Kensington.” Cynthia gave him the address and directions. “And Josh told me about the honeymoon. Thanks, Brian.”

“Thank you, Cyn,” Brian said. “I’d be completely lost without you.”

“Not completely,” Cynthia teased. “But it’s good that you recognize your limitations. Merry Christmas Brian. And good luck with whatever mad scheme you have going this time.”

“Thanks,” Brian said with a chuckle. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

Soon after that, Brian was on the road toward Justin. He took state route 28 northeast out of Pittsburgh and was soon away from the city. It only took about half an hour, though he had to slow down a bit once he got off the main road due to the snow still on the streets. When he pulled up in front of the gate, a taxi was just leaving and the gate stayed open long enough for him to pull through without a fuss. It seemed that Ethan with the rat face was leaving. Brian smiled at that. He wasn't nearly good enough for Justin.

Brian frowned. It wasn't like he was good enough for Justin either. But wasn't that what The-Powers-That-Be had been trying to teach him? That he was worthy of love? That he was good for Justin and Gus and even his surrogate family? Brian smiled. It was going to take some work to stop thinking that he was never good enough, but he was determined to do so. He was loved and he loved. He was not the awful person he had always believed himself to be. He was better than the lies his parents had told him. He was better than the shell of a man he had become by hiding his feelings from the world. And if Justin could love him, who was he to argue?

Brian rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. After waiting patiently for a few minutes, Brian went around the house to the garage and up the stairs to the studio. He knocked on the closed door and waited again. Brian could hear Justin muttering angrily as he got closer to the door.

“I thought I told you to leave…” Justin’s voice faded as he saw who was standing there. “Brian?”

“Justin,” Brian breathed out. “Fuck, I've missed you so fucking much.”

Justin looked like he had seen a ghost. Given Brian’s night, he knew exactly how the blond felt. They simply stood there and stared at each other for the longest time. Eventually, however, the cold seemed to break through to Brian’s brain.

“Um, mind if I come in?” Brian asked.

Ever the polite country club brat, Justin stood back and gestured for Brian to enter. After he had closed the door behind them, Justin leaned on it and sighed. “What are you doing here? How did you find me? Fuck, _why_ did you find me? I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“I lied,” Brian said quietly. “I lied about being relieved about you leaving. I lied about never loving you. I lied about a lot of things, and I’m so fucking sorry for each and every one of them.”

“Sorry’s bullshit,” Justin muttered as he stepped away from the door and went over to the window on the other side of the large room. Brian noted that Justin was putting a distance between them, but didn't do anything to stop him.

“Sorry isn't bullshit,” Brian said. “I know that now. Just like I know that I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I’m going to love you until the day I die.”

“You don’t even know me,” Justin said. “I've been gone for a long time, Brian. I’m not the same person I was when I left.”

“I’m not either,” Brian said. “But no matter what changes either of us has made, a love like we shared doesn't just go away. I want to try again. I want to get it right this time.”

Justin turned to face Brian again. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I could survive if you sent me away again.”

“Have I ever made a promise to you that I didn't keep?” Brian asked.

Justin shook his head. “You rarely made promises, but when you did, you always kept them. Part of the Kinney Code of Conduct.”

“That’s right, though most of that code has been recently tossed away,” Brian said with a self-deprecating smile. “I’m going to make a promise to you here and now. I promise that I will never send you away and I will never walk away from you, from us. I’m sure we’ll hit some rough times, but I promise that I’ll stick around to work it out.”

Justin stared at him and Brian could see a spark of hope begin to light his eyes, eyes that had been dulled with pain for entirely too long. “You mean that?”

“With all my heart,” Brian agreed. “I love you.”

“Why’d you do that?” Justin asked. “Why did you break my heart like that?”

Brian walked over to the small sofa in the corner of the room and sat down. “I thought… I thought that you would be better off without me in your life. I thought that loving me would keep you from finding happiness. So I tried to make you stop loving me.”

“I could never stop loving you,” Justin said as he slowly approached Brian. “Loving you may hurt sometimes, but as long as we’re together the hurt is only temporary.”

“I think I understand that now,” Brian said. “But you may have to remind me from time to time.”

Justin sat down on the sofa beside Brian. “What about tricks?”

Brian shrugged. “I haven’t done as much of that since you left. I realized a while ago that I don’t need the anonymous boost anymore. I can certainly live without them as long as I have you. I think we should try monogamy.” Brian thought of the spirit’s words and knew that he would be celibate if it meant that Justin wouldn't go through the horror he faced in Chicago.

Justin beamed at Brian and for the first time, Brian could see the young man he had fallen in love with in the man beside him. He wasn't gone completely, just buried under a mound of hurt. Brian vowed to remove that pain if it took the rest of his life.

“Let’s go for it,” Justin said happily. And then he leaned forward and gave Brian a kiss that wiped away all the anxiety he had been carrying since watching Justin die in his arms the night before. It wiped away the hidden hurts and loneliness of the past four years. It even wiped away the fear that came from allowing himself to be vulnerable.

When Brian pulled away, he knew that no matter what anyone else thought of his change in attitude, no matter how much teasing he took for finally giving in to his heart, it was worth it all to have Justin in his arms and in his life.

“I brought you a gift,” Brian said. “Well actually, I brought you two gifts but one is for now and one for later.”

Justin looked confused, but he accepted the first small box that Brian handed to him. He opened it to find a thick platinum ID bracelet. It was made from wide flat links and the flat ID part was etched with a scrolling design.

“Are those shells?” Justin asked.

“Just like my bracelet,” Brian nodded. “When I saw it months ago, all I could think of was seeing you wear it. When I decided to come see you today, I made my friend open up his shop so I could give this to you. I had him date the back.”

Justin turned the bracelet over so he could see the inscription: Always JT & BK. “Put it on me?” Justin asked and held his arm up. Once Brian had closed the clasp, he held Justin’s wrist up and kissed it.

“Okay, second gift,” Brian said. “But remember, this is for later, when we’re both ready. But I wanted you to know that I fully intend for that day to come.”

Justin looked confused until he opened the second small box that Brian handed to him. It contained a set of two platinum wedding bands.

“Someday,” Brian said as he wiped the tears from Justin’s face. “Someday soon, we’ll stand up in front of our friends and family and promise forever.”

Justin nodded and kissed Brian tenderly through his tears. “Someday soon,” he agreed.

Later, much later, after a tour of the house and a long tour of the master bedroom, the master bed and even the master shower, Brian held Justin in his arms and kissed his forehead. “Come to Debbie’s with me? Come see everyone. Gus has gotten so big. He wants to be a sculptor—at least he does this week—I told him I might know someone who would be willing to give him lessons. Any ideas?”

Justin chuckled. “Yes, I’ll give Gus lessons. As for the party at Debbie’s… I’m not sure.”

“They all love you,” Brian said. “And they’ve missed you almost as much as I have.”

Justin sighed and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll go.”

An hour later, they were pulling up in front of Debbie’s house. Justin looked nervous, but Brian was just as nervous. “We’re here.”

“So we are,” Justin agreed. He looked at Brian. “Are they expecting you?”

“No,” Brian admitted. “I haven’t been to a family Christmas since you left. As far as they are concerned, I’m Pittsburgh’s answer to Scrooge.” Brian smirked when he thought of how true that statement was.

“Well, just like Scrooge, you can have a change of heart,” Justin said. “Let’s go show them how to celebrate.”

Brian leered, “I didn’t think you’d be up for a public display so soon, but…”

Justin laughed at that. “Asshole, you know what I meant.”

Feeling much less anxious, the two men climbed from the car and went to the front door together, holding hands the whole way. They shared a smile and Justin pressed the doorbell. Moments later, the door swung open.

“Brian? What are you doing here?” Debbie asked with surprise. Her expression turned to shock, however, when she saw who was with him. “Oh my god! Sunshine! Is that really you?”

Justin was engulfed in a tight hug before he could answer. “Yeah Deb, it’s me. I’ve come home.”

Brian looked at Justin with a wide smile. “We’ve both come home.”

Debbie was swiping at tears, but she didn't miss the look or Brian’s words. She embraced him tightly and whispered in his ear. “Glad to have you home, Scrooge.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Brian said.

“Is this the part where Tiny Tim says, ‘God Bless us, everyone’?” Justin asked with a cheeky smile.

“I think we've all been blessed already,” Debbie said.

From inside, they all heard Michael whine, “Ma? What’s taking so long? Who’s there?”

“Well, come on inside. Everybody will be thrilled to see you both,” Debbie said.

She walked in and Brian held Justin back for just one moment to capture his lips. “Merry Christmas, Justin.”

“Merry Christmas, Brian.”

Somewhere, on another plane of existence, Jack Kinney smiled. His son would be alright. Gus would have a better life than the one Brian had been shown and Brian and Justin would live and love for many years to come. All had been set right because that is just as it should be in a Christmas Carol, no matter who is playing Scrooge this year.

And so our story ends on a happy note as together Brian and Justin walked inside the brightly decorated house to face the family and to face the future together.

**The End**


End file.
